i 


,UC-NRLF 


*B  asi  at,^ 


Amateur 


BY 


LE  ROY  J.  LEISHMAN 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/amateurverseOOIeisrich 


Amateur  'MttBt 


BY 
LE  ROY  J.  LEISHMAN 


PUBLISHED   BY 

Dee-Neuteboom  Printing  Co. 

OGDEN.    UTAH 


IN  APPRECIATION   OF 

HELPFUL  SUGGESTIONS  AND  CRITICISM 

THIS  VOLUME  IS  DEDICATED  TO 

LOFTER   BJARNASON  AND 

Nels  L.  Nelson 


IviSOlO? 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

When  Easter  Comes 7 

Parcitine    J> 

To  the  Wasatch  Mountains  18 

To  Youth  19 

Lines  in  Memoriam 20 

The  Pilgrim's  Muse  21 

The    American   Flag    , 23 

The  Universe — The  Possibility  of  Man  25 

The   Weeping   Willow 27 

Sunny  Days 28 

Spring    29 

The  Burst  of  Light 31 

The  Setting  of  Two  Suns  32 

The  Close  of  Day  33 

Sylvan    Scenes    34 

The  Forget-Me-Not     35 

The  Stars:   A  Child's  Poem  ! 36 

Mother * 37 

A  Snowfall  in  the  Woods  38 

The  New  Year  39 

Winter     40 


iltttroJiiurttnn 


HIS  little  volume  of  verse,  publislied  at  the 
solicitation  of  several  friends,  is  a  collection 
of  a  few  poems  written  during  the  past  five 
years.  The  earliest  of  these  poems  were 
written  during  my  thirteenth  year,  and  the 
latest  of  the  set — the  three  at  the  front  of  the  book — were 
finished  after  I  became  eighteen.  I  have  arranged  the  dif- 
ferent poems  in  the  inverse  order  to  that  in  which  they 
were  written,  and  I  therefore  wish  to  make  an  apology  for 
those  near  the  back.  They  were  written  in  my  very  extreme 
youth,  some  of  them  when  I  was  as  young  as  thirteen.  Al- 
though these  earjiest  verses  have  been  somewhat  revised,  I 
trust  that  the  critical  reader  will  attribute  a  legitimate  num- 
ber of  the  faults  that  he  finds  to  this  cause. 
Ogden,  Utah,  May,  1914. 


WHEN  EASTER  COMES. 


Fair  Easter  is  breathing  the  breath  of  life, 

And  the  sleep  of  death  is  o'er. 
The  birds  have  come  over  distant  seas 

That  wash  on  a  distant  shore. 
I  feel  the  beat  of  my  heart  in  its  bound 

To  the  new  born  joy  of  spring, 
And  I  lend  my  ear  to  the  babbling  sound 

Of  the  swelling  brooks  that  sing. 

The  trees  are  clothing  their  naked  limbs 

In   a   leafy   garb   of  green; 
And  the  mountain  top  is  earlier  crowned 

By  the  sun  in  a  golden  sheen. 
The  buds  unfold  at  the  kiss  of  spring 

Like  hearts  that  are  touched  with  love; 
And  the  plants  are  bathed  when  the  breezes  bring 

Sweet  showers  from  the  clouds  above. 

All  things  are  born  into  life  aijew 

When  this  something  fills  the  air, 
And  the  soul  of  man  awakes  at  the  call 

When  the  arched  skies  are  fair. 


7. 


,  Our  thoughts  arise  from  the  plain  and  low, 
•   JJL^^  gur  dreams  and  hopes  are  free 
As  sylph  and  seraph  that  come  and  go 
;  In  ihe  liie  that  is  to  be. 

All  these  are  the  joys  of  the  hoping  heart 

When  Easter  and  Spring  are  here; 
All  these  are  the  thoughts  that  bound  and  start 

When  sunnier  days  are  near. 
'Tis  the  dream  of  life,  of  light  and  love 

That'  Easter  is  ushering  in, 
As  her  magic  touches  emotions  move 

In  the  spirit  that  lives  within. 


PARCITINE. 


Prelude. 

How  like  is  man  to  man.     Maternal  earth 
Begets  a  myriad  host  of  human  forms, 
And  freely,  from  her  great,  unfailing  store, 
She  measures  to  each  his  daily  sustenance. 
Upon  her  bounty  all  types  of  men  depend 
For  nothing  less  than  all  that  men  receive. 
All  have  her  wondrous  gifts — informing  eyes 
And  ears,  such  things  as  these  behold  and  hear, 
The  light  of  day,  the  sky,  the  verdant  garb 
Of  earth,  the  sound  of  bird  and  brook,  the  sweet 
Inspiring  music  of  the  universe, — 
All  these  doth  Nature  give,  and  none  can  claim 
One  tittle  more  than  she  endows.     The  School 
Of  life,  where  master  pedagogues  instruct. 
Has  taught  all  men  the  great,  material  law; 
And,  moulded  by  the  lessons  that  we  learn. 
We  form  the  traits  that  men  have  christened  human. 


The  great,  the  good,   the  wise, — 
And  those  of  lesser  worth, — all  these  abide 
Their  day  in  fellowship  upon  the  earth. 
The  ancient  place  of  man^s  abode,  where  all 
Transpired  that  tongue  of  us  can  truly  tell  • 


9v 


The  Story. 


Quite  vaguely  bounded   is  the  garden  fair- 
Though  it  I  think  comprises  most  the  earth, — 
Where  things  of  greatest  beauty  meet  the  eyes 
Of  him  who  loves,  perceives,  appreciates. 
The  artful  hand  by  which  the  stars  were  wrought 
Has  fashioned   here  its  crowning  masterpiece: 
The  storm-enduring  hills,  the  sun-kissed  vales. 
The  streams  that  croon  their  optimistic  song. 
The  floTj'ers,  the  trees,  the  overlooking  skies. 
These  SS^«  adorn  the  garden. 


'Mid  all  this, 
The  work  that  Nature's  unseen  hands  have  wrought, 
A  thriving  people  makes  its  habitat. 
Designers,  painters,  sculptors,  architects, — 
All  these  are  here,  and  working  out  their  dreams, 
Have  moulded  Beauty's  self  in  fairest  form. 
AVell  pleased,  it  seems,  with  all  the  works  of  man, 
A  thoughtless  population  «iost  denies 
The  subtler  art  by  which  the  earth 
Was  clad  in  rich,  majestic  garb.     In  fact, 
Where  plainest  works  of  Nature  fail  to  please, 


10. 


No  time  is  lost  in  making  changes  mete 

To  suit  the  cultured  eye.     From  plant  and  tree 

And  flowers  all  fair — from  Nature's  handiwork — 

An  artificial  beauty,  more  adapt 

To  such  as  people  this  peculiar  place, 

Uprears  its  form  at  man's  commanding  call. 

He  rules  the  earth,  and  his  ingenious  skill 

Has  made  this  garden  to  be  Allurement's  self, 

A  rendezvous  for  all  who  seek  those  things 

That  appease  the  appetite  of  him  who  drinks 

From  Pleasure's  cup. 


The  lure  of  this  was  brought 
To  Parcitine.     He,  young  and  full  of  the  love 
Of  men,  impelled  by  thirst  for  truth  and  knowledge, 
Desired  above  all  other  things  to  know 
The  source  of  happiness,  for  this,  he  thought, 
Must  be  the  goal  of  all  humanity. 
Where  all  external  things  are  clad  in  beauty. 
Where  plenty  leaves  no  room  for  aught  of  worth 
To  be  desired,  there  surely  is  the  fount  of  happiness. 
(Too  often  do  |fie  thus  decide.)     The  quest 
To   which   his   thirsting   soul   had   bended  long 
No  more  could  lead  him  on.     The  sought-for  goal 
Was  now  attained.     The  glorious  garden  holds 
The  clearest  font  of  human  joy,  a  wealth 
Of  ease,  of  beauty.     Else  than  this  could  not 


11. 


Produce,  thought  youthful  Parcitine,  the  joy 

That  men  have  right  to  claim.     The  people  here 

Spent  life  pursuing  happiness,  and  one 

Would  think,  to  view  their  pleasure  chase,  that  they 

Had  found  their  Eldorado.     Music  fair 

Fell  softly  on  the  ears  of  Parcitine. 


Sweet  music — yes,  'twas  more  than  that!  The  soul 
Could  not  but  bathe  enchanted  in  the  spell 
Its  harmony,  its  lovely  melody 
Outpoured  upon  the  charmed  ears  of  all. 
And  perfume  sweet — ah,  yes,   'twas  more  than  sweet! 
Its  ravishing  odor  claimed  the  very  air. 
And  beauty!     Parcitine  could  not  conceive 
Re  yair  a  paradise. 


At  last,  one  day 
Wnen  all  pursued  with  maddening  zeal  the  form 
Of  phantom  pleasures,  all  the  place  was  changed. 
A  crimson  ray,  enkindled  by  the  fire 
Of  animated  and  enamored  souls, 
Arose  above  the  happiest  throng  of  all  that  host- 
That  host  which  ever  sought  abundant  joy. 
The  heavens  laved  within  its  lucid  light. 
High  rose  the  Elysian  flame;  and  then,  as  if 
Some  fairy  elf  had  wrought  with  magic  art, 


12. 


|i 


It  burst  into  a  thousand  brilliant  hues. 
Aurora's  beauty  could  not  half  compare. 
Then  came  a  vision-cloud.     The  purple  mist 
About  the  sable  garb  of  night  withdrew. 
Ah! — glorious  wonder — vision  of  the  fair! 


A  sweet  Celestial  City  floated  there 
Within  the  cloud  that  hovered  high  overhead. 
Luxuriant  beauty  reared  its  concrete  form 
In  palaces  and  palisades;  and  though 
The  nebulae,  surrounding  like  a  wall, 
Forbade  a  clear  discernment  of  the  true 
Content  of  the  vision-cloud,  all  things  that  make 
For  happiness  serene  had  zenith  found 
In  this  translucent,   hovering,   dreamy  film. 
And  better  still  than  this  to  selfish  eyes 
That  saw,  no  law  forbade  a  single  deed. 
Ideal,  and  quite  transcending  highest  hope 
Was  this  fair  city  floating  in  a  cloud. 
Their  mode  of  living  fascinated  all 
The  ardent  worshipers;  and  Parcitine, 
Like  all  the  rest,  was  moulding  day  by  day 
His  every  thought  and  deed  to  this  new  code. 

Straightway  the  garden  took  new  beauty  on, 
And  being  beautiful  before,  became 
Unearthly  so,  more  like  the  cloud. 


32. 


The  mellow  music  grew  more  soft,  more  sweet; 
The  perfume  of  the  flowers,  more  fragrant  still; 
The  pleasure-loving  spirit  now  became 
Far  more  intense,  more  nearly  universal. 

The  vision-cloud  began  to  move;  and  all 
Vfithin  the  garden  fair,  infused  wdth  that 
For  which  the  vision  stood,  went  following  near. 
As  mighty  thoughts  from  tiny  causes  spring 
When  men  would  justify  their  every  deed. 
So  now,  when  these  pursued  their  guiding  star, — 
Well  worshiped  both  in  thought  and  deed — contrived 
To  find  a  just  excuse.     They  sought  not  far. 
But  came  to  quite  believe  that  they  had  found 
iSTot  some  delusion,  but  a  living  truth. 
The  misty  dream  became  their  code  of  life. 
N'ot  even  in  hours  of  most  unselfish  thought 
Did  they  believe  that  this  which  they  pursued 
Would  lead  them   from  their  cherished  course. 
They  rather  thought  it  led  them  toward  the  goal 
That  all  the  race,  impelled  by  just  desire. 
Must  need  attain,   although  tradition  told 
Of  men  who  saw  its  glories,  followed  near,  and  then 
Condemned  its  fascinating  spell.     The  code 
Evolv*ed  by  all  this  maddened  caravan 
Imbued  them  with  a  false  conceit.     To  those 
Who  followed  not,  they  even  forbade  the  right 
Of  being  called  as  human. 


14. 


Parcitine , 
O'erfull  of  the  love  of  men,  was  drawn  by  all 
That  bore  a  human  sign.     Their  hearts  and  thoughts 
Were  sacred  gods  to  him.     Because  of  this, 
He  too  became  adapted  to  the  phantom, 
And  followed  with  the  great  deluded  throng. 


Not  many  weeks  had  passed.    They  had  not  found 
The  sweet  content  for  which  they  long  had  sought. 
A  sad  and  sombre  melody,  a  drear 
And  doleful  monody,  arises  from 

Their  heart-strings  tuned  in  minor  key.     Some  thoughts 
Arise  in  minds  of  men  too  deep  for  word 
Or  tear;  and  now,  when  hangs  unhappiness 
O^er  the  souls  of  all,  their  sad  and  solemn  thoughts 
Came  forth  in  melancholy  music.     Like 
The  fragrance  breathed  by  summer  flowers,  or  mist 
That  rises  from  the  spring-caressed  lakes, 
The  notes  that  spoke  their  sorrow  rose  and  fell 
When  impassioned  zephyr  breezes  touched  the  strings 
Of  their  disturbed  souls.     Their  gloom  made  life 
A  weary  dream  of  base  desire,  and  stern 
Eeality  of  pain.     Corruption  dogged 
The  life  of  unrestraint. 


15. 


Now  Parcitine 
Desired  above  all  other  things  to  know 
The  source  of  happiness,  for  this  he  thought 
Must  be  the  goal  of  all  humanity. 
He  had  not  found  surcease  from  sorrow's  pang; 
He  had  not  found  the  sought-for  city  fair. 
Could  life  itself  be  God's  mistake,  or  this — 
This  false  deceiving  cloud — was  it  alone 
The  evil  genius  working  woe  in  hearts 
Of  men?     'Twas  this  that  now  he  longed  to  know. 

Absorbed  in  silent  meditation,  earth 
And  life  to  understand,  he  saw  a  light — 
A  glorious  light  all  white  with  holiest  ray — 
That  o'er  a  far  horizon  shone  like  that 
Of  high  noon-tide.     He  gazed,  inspired  with  awe. 
Far  more  inviting  and  enticing  than 
The  floating  mist  of  base  deceit,  was  this 
New  light  that  spoke  a  richer,  holier  sphere. 

While  gazing  on  its  sweet  resplendency 
A  child  approached. 


'^Kind  mister,  I  have  come 
From  yonder  light  you  gaze  upon.         Come  now 
With  me,  for  I  shall  lead  the  way,  and  you 
May  see  the  source  of  that  transforming  light.'* 


16. 


The  child  was  clothed  in  spotless  white  and  bore 

The  look  of  one  who  knew  the  truth  and  lived 

Where  blessedness  was  given  to  souls  of  men. 

Now  Parcitine  desired  to  live  in  peace, 

To  knoAV  the  truth,  to  give  his  spirit  rest. 

He  followed  where  the  child  his  footsteps  guided. 

A  melody  that  sang  of  luxury 
And  constant  ease  came  to  his  ears  from  that 
Infatuating  garden  fair.     The  smell 
Of  perfume  floated  on  the   air,   and  called 
To  Parcitine.     He  faltered  not;  he  kept 
His  path  with  her  who  led  him  onward  still. 
They  scaled  the  height  of  some  lone  mountain  peak, 
And  there  the  glorious  light  he  saw  in  its 
Transcendent  beauty.     Earth,  as  Nature  made 
It,  now  appealed  to  Parcitine.     He  loved 
The  luminous  light,  and  by  its  wondrous  power 
He  read  the  minds  of  men.     He  knew  their  hearts. 
And  all  events  and  all  conditions  now 
Were  understood.     His  soul  was  full  of  joy; 
His  spirit  knew  the  sacred  peace  he  craved. 
The  phantom  cloud  no  longer  could  allure 
The  better  Parcitine,  and  all  for  which 
Its  misty  vision  stood  was  now  quite  clear. 
The  light  of  truth  was  sweet  to  Parcitine, 
And  soul  and  body  bathed  in  ecstasy. 
His  joy  surpassed  his  power  to  tell.     All  things 
In  God^s  unbounded  open  did  unfold. 
And  Parcitine  could  read  a  deeper  meaning. 

17. 


TO  THE  WASATCH  MOUNTAINS— AN  APOSTEOPHE. 


Majestic  hills!   Thy  rocky  domes  declare 

The  might  of  God.     Thy  many  canyons  fair, 

Ee-echoing  the  sound  of  hurrying  brooks^ 

Reveal  the  sacred  peace  that  in  thy  nooks 

Is  undisturbed  by  man's  intrusion.     Where 

The  winter's  snow  &A.  heavy  here  and  there, 

The  shadows  of  the  clouds  in  summer  pass. 

The  heated  atmosphere  does  make  the  mass 

Of  thy  great  peaks  to  tremble  in  the  sun. 

How  sweet  it  is,  when  worldly  toil  is  done, 

To  roam  among  thy  canyoned  hills,  and  gaze 

Upon  the  wondrous  work  of  Nature!     Days 

And  years,  and  tens  of  centuries  have  all 

Left  thee  as  now.     Thy  narrow  ravines,  thy  tall 

Proud  pines,  and  thy  winding  crystal  streams  inspire 

The  soul  with  nobler  thoughts,  and  deep  desire. 


IS. 


TO  YOUTH. 


We  stand  before  a  life  that  is  to  be, — 

Before  the  years  that  hope  has  pictured  fair; 
The  future  looms  up  bright,  and  there  we  see 

A  thousand  things  that  call  to  do  and  dare. 
Overfull  of  life  itself,  and  full  of  zeal, 

Enthused  by  Nature's  transcendental  store 
Of  beauty,  ought  we  not  at  least  to  feel 

That  we  than  older  folk  are  favored  more! 
Yet  we  must  learn  on  every  passing  day. 

From  Nature's  open  book  of  sacred  truth, 
Those  things  that  help  us  beat  the  narrow  way, 

Those  things  that  keep  for  us  this  joy  of  youth. 
And  then,  with  all  that  makes  a  life  worth  while. 
May  youth,  not  face  the  future  with  a  smile? 


Id. 


LINES  IN  MEMORIAM. 


A  trillion  souls,  lion-hearted,  brave  and  true, 
Companionship  with  mortals  hold  no  more; 

Yet  highest  reason  does  the  mind  imbue 

With  faith  that  eyes  of  them  are  watching  o'er. 

Today  we  turn  our  every  solemn  thought 
iTJpon  their  birth  where  endless  life  is  fair, 

And  find  a  fitting  change  in  nature  wrought, 
For  life  is  blooming,  spring:like,  everywhere. 

We  deck  each  grave  with  lovely  scented  flowers, — 

Fair  signs  of  immortality  are  they, 
And  breathe  the  hope  that  in  eternal  hours 

The  dead  remember  tributes  that  we  pay. 


20. 


THE   PILGRIM'S   MUSE. 


My  tears  have  wet  the  dim,  uncertain  way 
In  which  I  wander,  dreary  and  forlorn. 

It  is  a  valley  of  gloom,  and  sulky  shadows  gray 
The  rugged  tops  of  ghostly  hills  adorn. 

Alone  and  sad!     All  is  wrong  to  me: 

In  Nature  I  can  find  no  thing  of  cheer, 

And  in  the  heart  of  man  I  look  and  see 
A  nothingness,  save  discord,  pain  and  fear. 

In  all  the  earth  there  is  but  endless  woe — 
No  balm  to  pacify  my  fevered  brain! 

I  wonder  why  the  Lord  should  make  it  so 
That  life  and  all  creation  seem  in  vain. 

Despondent  now,  I  start  to   meditate. 

Life's  mystery  once  for  all  I  strive  to  know, 
That  I,  with  added  light,  shall  hesitate 

No  more  before  the  way  that  I  must  go. 

At  last  I  find  that  men  must  need  obey 
The  moral  law,  the  conscience  of  the  race. 

And,   making  this   my  guidance   and   my   stay, 
I  feel  that  I  approach  a  resting  place. 

21. 


Ah,  surely  so!     I  enter  a  valley  fair 

Where  melancholy  moods  shall  find  surcease. 

The  flowers  perfume  sweet  the  pleasant  air, 
And  all  is  rich  accord  and  silent  peace. 

I  see  that  men  have  found  eternal  joy 
In  living  outward  from  the  human  heart. — 

1  see  that  all  may  know  the  sweet  alloy 

Whose  charm  the  tongue  is  powerless  to  impart. 

How  many  things  I  knew  not  of  before 
Are  clad  in  beauty  now  that  I  can  see! 

How  many  shadows  flee  forevermore 

Since  I  have  learned  that  God  has  made  me  free! 

Dark  vale  of  tears,  thy  skies  were  black  as  night, 
But  these  are  ever  warm  and  blue  and  clear. 

Oh,  that  my  way  way  had  seen,  as  well  it  might. 
No  sin  at  all,  no  day  of  doubt,  no  tear! 


22. 


THE  AMERICAN  FLAG. 


O  Flag,  undo  thy  honored  folds 

To  float  upon  the  breeze. 
What  mast  in  all  dominion  holds 

More  meaning  stripes  than  these? 

For  justice  stands  the  navy  field 
Where  states  have  each  a  star; 

In  white  is  peace,  the  nation's  shield 
Against  the  hand  of  war; 

And  red,  the  stain  upon  the  white, 

Is  blood  of  servants  brave, 
And  stands  for  love,  and  every  right. 

That  God  His  children  gave. 

The  stripes  are  for  the  thirteen  states 
That  freed  for  us  the  land.      -^^ 

They  raised  the  flag,  and  from  thf^m  dates 
A  nation  great  and  grand. 

O   Freedom's  flag,   we   look   above 

And  smile  to  see  thee  wave. 
With  loss  of  life  and  friends  we  love 

We'd  serve  thee  to  the  grave! 


23. 


When  in  thy  stars'  soft  gilded  light 

The  martial  breezes   play, 
Or  thunder-cannons  shake  the  night, 

To  thee  we  leave  the  day. 

Our  trust  and  faith  we  give  to  thee, 

Sweet  natal  flag  of  yore, 
That  thou  mightst  wave  on  land  and  sea 

Thy  stripes  forevermore. 

In  triumph  dost  thou  fly  today, 
Freed  from  the  storm  and  blast; 

Thy  stars  illume  the  nation's  way 
And  shine  in  peace  at  last. 


24. 


GOD'S  UNIVERSE:    THE  POSSIBILITY  OF   MAN. 


I  looked  across  the  spacious  plain — 
Beyond  the  streams  that  move  along, 

And  saw  a  mighty  mountain  chain 
With  lofty  summits  builded  strong. 

Again  I  looked  upon  the  scene 

And  knew  that  it  was  small  beside 

The  ample  land  that  lies  between 

The  shores  that  kiss  the  swelling  tide. 

In  fancy  then,  I  saw  the  sea, 

With  parts  unknown,  as  yet,  to  man; 

Then,  far  beyond,  I  knew  to  be 

Of  hills  and  plains  an  endless  span. 

I  saw  that  life  was  everywhere 

Since  first  began  the  flight  of  time, — 

Beneath  the  sea  and  in  the  air, 
Upon  the  earth  in  every  clime. 

At  last  the  welkin  ^s  veil  withdrew, 
And  countless  stars  bedecked  the  night. 

The  watchful  moon,  and  planets,  too. 
Sent  forth  their  cold,  reflected  light. 


25. 


I  knew  that  God  had  made  the  whole. 

It  could  not  be  the  work  of  fate. 
Then  reason  told  me  that  the  soul 

Could  w^ell  accomplish  deeds  as  great. 

Yes,  we  may  do  an  equal  thing 
If  we  but  use  the  force  of  will; 

Then  man,  like  God,  will  be  a  king. 
Subduing  all,  progressing  still! 


26. 


THE  WEEPING  WILLOW. 


*^I  have  heard/'  said  the  old  weeping  willow, 

*'Wheii  earth  was  all  garnished  in  green, 
The  song  of  the  brook  as  it  rippled 

Its  mossy  embankments  between. 
I  then  was  enriched  in  my  glory, 

The  foliage  my  stems  lightly  bore; 
But  the  Autumn  has  come  and  has  taken 

My  hues,  and  I'm  happy  no  more." 


'^I  have  seen,''  said  the  sad  weeping  willow, 

''My  leaves  grow  both  withered  and  red. 
They  have  fallen  like  snow  on  the  breezes, 

And  now  they  lie  scattered  and  dead. 
May  the  snow  in  the  winter  embalm  them 

Till  May  with  her  skies  of  good  cheer. 
And  though  naked  I'll  listen  to  music 

The  brook  sings  the  rest  of  the  year." 


SUNNY   DAYS. 


The  glare  from  the  fire  is  forgotten  and  gone 
In  the  far  greater  joy  of  Sol's  luminous  glow, 
And  hours  that  hung  heavy  as  time  lingered  on 
Now  beguile  us  to  mirth  with  the  sunshine  they  show. 
O  Sunny  Days,  fleet  not  so  quickly  away, 
In  the  rolic  and  frolic  of  sunbeams  at  play. 

The  birds  and  the  bees  from  the  morning  till  night 
Sing  love   songs  in  ecstasy  sweetly  expressed; 
The  brook  laughs  as  it  passes  and  winds  out  of  sight. 
And  the  trees  sigh  themselves  on  the  breezes  to  rest. 
The  flowers  with  their  perfume  and  Sol  up  above 
Shed  fragrance  and  beams  as  a  maiden  sheds  love. 

In  thy  splendor,  O  Sun,  wealth  of  glories  abound, 
'Tis  thy  glow  that  makes  summer  so  rare,  so  sublime; 
AVhere    thy   sunbeams    are    dancing   the   blithesome    are 

found. 
And  life  to  us  all  seems  a  dream  all  the  time. 
O  Sunny  Days,  ever  so  happy  and  free, 
Thy  joys  rend  all  gloom  on  the  land  and  the  sea. 


SPEING. 


Sweet  Easter  marks  the  end  of  winter  days 
And  bids  the  songsters  welcome  with  their  lays; 
And  Spring,  with  wealth  of  beauty  unsurpassed, 
Beguiles  our  thoughts  and  makes  us  glad  at  last. 
In  clouds  above  her  lovely  face  appears, 
Devoid  of  every  sign  of  former  years. 
'Tis  blissful  joy  to  see  her  pleasant  smile, 
Pier  sweet  fresh  face  the  brighter  all  the  while; 
To  hear  her  voice  in  Nature  ^s  singing  birds, 
Expressing  beauteous  thoughts  too  deep  for  words. 
The  eyes  of  Spring  begin  to  speak  of  flowers, 
Foretell  sweet  bliss,  and  promise  happy  hours. 


The  meadow  lark  makes  all  the  earth  sublim^e; 
The  robin's  song  completes  the  charming  rhyme; 
A  fault  forms  not  a  part  of  Spring-time  days. 
Like  magic  chants  those  clear  melodious  lays 
Pierce. earthly  bounds  and  reach  those  realms  afar 
Where  fancy  rests,  and  blithesome  spirits  are. 


29. 


Majestic  beauty  comes  abreast  with  Spring, 

And  all  things  fair  her  budding  blossoms  bring. 

The  brooklet  leaves  its  home  of  snow  and  ice 

When   Spring  arrives  with   all  her  Paradise. 

The  buttercups  that  bloom  beside  the  brook 

From  some  most  glorious  realm  their  sweetness  took. 

The  modest  violet,  sweetest  flower  of  all, 

Outdoes  in  beauty  all  the  blooms  of  Fall. 

Each  primrose  helps  to  glorify  the  hours; 

The  silvery  stream  turns  forth  to  kiss  the  flowers; 

The  birds  in  one  grand  chorus  greet  the  Spring, 

Taught  by  some  fairy  elf  their  songs  to  sing. 

A  cloak  of  verdure  gayly  clothes  each  day 

When  earth  is  young  aagin  in  happy  May. 


SO. 


THE   BURST   OF   LIGHT. 


The  dawn  approaches  and  the  shadows  fade  away, 
From  dismal  depths  there  bursts  a  flood  of  radiant  light. 
The  sun  climbs  swiftly  upward,  and  the  new-born  day 
Dispels  the  darkness  and  the  ugly  mist  of  night. 

Thus  from  the  gloom  of  ignorance  a  truth  may  spring, 
Its  light  resplendent  lighting  up  some  murky  sky! 
And  one  of  us  full  well  might  be  a  sun,  to  bring 
The  welcome  ray  of  truth  that  lights  and  cannot  die. 


31. 


THE   SETTING  OF   TWO   SUNS 


One  night  I  saw  the  sun  go  down 

Enshrouded   in   a   robe   of  red, 
And  streams  of  gold,  his  shining  crown, 

On  blushing  earth  in  splendor  shed. 
The  crimson  clouds  did  dance  in  glee 

Around  his  great  and  fiery  flame, — 
No  richer  scene  could  mortals  see. — 

He  sank  to  rest  and  darkness  came. 

One  day  a  greater  sun  went  down. 

His  light  was  truth — not  beams  just  spread- 
And  on  His  brow  a  thorny  crown, 

His  blood,  his  precious  life-blood,  shed. 
The  earth  did  shake  at  God's  command 

For  miles  around  this  Lord  divine. 
He  sank  to  rest,  but  on  all  land 

His  holy  light  doth  brighter  shine. 


32. 


THE  CLOSE  OF  DAY. 


The  fast  departing  sun  adieu  has  said 

To  all  the  land  and  to  the  fading  day; 

But  since  he  leaves  no  token  of  his  love 

Behind,  the  day  grows  sad,  and  gray,  and  wan. 

The  boys  from  school,  their  tasks  at  study  done. 

The  kine,  unmindful  of  approaching  night, 

The  laborer,  the  swain,  and  all  the  rest, 

Plod  homeward,    'mid  the  gathering  darkness,  for 

The   night  comes  on.     The   shades  fall  fast 

Upon  the  land,  and  now  the  frogs  resume 

The  same  drear  song  they  sang  the  night  before. 

The  chirping  crickets  take  their  lonesome  lay 

And  while  the  hours  away  till  midnight  comes. 

The  moon  long  since  has  hushed  the  song 

The  lark  upraises  as  the  day  goes  by. 

So  that  the  nightingale  may  chant  alone. 

The  nervous  stars  peep  through  the  far-off  depths 

That  separate  all  earthly  things  from  heaven, 

And  even  the  glory  that  they  shed  seems  not 

To  move  the  gloom  of  night.     The  silent  spell    , 

Enchants  the  soul,  and  sleep  reigns  all  around. 


33. 


SYLVAN   SCENES:    THE   FOREST   OF    ARDEN, 


The  ancient  oak  trees  sigh  themselves  to  sleep, 
And  all  the  sounds  in  peaceful  blending  keep: 
The  brooklet  murmurs  at  the  task  of  babbling  on 
From  morn  till  night,  and  then  from  night  till  dawn; 
The  blooms  of  summer  scattered  through  the  green,. 
The  arched  sky  encompassing  the  scene, 
The  stars  by  night,  the  golden  sun  by  day. 
All  listen  to  the  bird^s  enchanting  lay. 
But  something  lurking  in  the  fragrant  air 
Brings  greater  beauty  to  the  forest  fair. 
Beneath  the  boughs,  and  upwards  to  the  skies^ 
An  unseen  power  prevades,  and  in  it  lies 
The  greatest  charm  since  nature's  work  began — 
The  charm  that  bears  a  message  all  for  man. 
The  graceful  deer  and  fawn  together  played 
Alone  within  the  sylvan  forest  shade. 
But  now  their  human  enemies  appear 
To  steal  a  birth-right  and  a  home  of  cheer. 
The  courtiers  live  a  life  of  ease  and  mirth, 
Enjoying   all   the   natural   things   of   earth. 
In  freedom  from  the  bonds  of  vassalage 
They  fleet  the  time  as  in  the  golden  age, 
When  intellect  combined  with  chastity 
Made  man  from  toil  and  care  and  labor  free. 
The  mistic  charm  of  Arden  works  its  way 
Into  the  heart  of  men  both  young  and  gray, 
And  always  does  it  make  the  moments  fleet 
Like  hours,  and  life  is  made  more  long  and  sweet. 
34. 


THE  FORGET-ME-NOT. 


There's  a  flower  on  the  lea 

And  its  beauty  to  me 
Is  fairer  than  all  fancy's  sway; 

For  its  message  is  real, 

And  the  things  that  we  feel 
Are  trifles  that  soon  p9,ss  away. 

It  appears  in  my  dreams. 

And   its   tiny  "bloom   seems 
Like  a  smile,  or  a  hope,  or  a  tear. 

It  is  dainty,  and  blue 

Of  a  beautiful  hue. 
And  it  whispers,  '* Forget  me  not,  dear." 

If  its  bloom  is  unseen 

As  it  hides  in  the  green 
Still  its  message  will  ring  in  some  ear. 

With  its  delicate  hue 

'Tis  forever  *Hrue  blue'' 
With  its  message,  ''Forget  me  not,  dear." 


35. 


THE  STARS:  A  CHILD'S  POEM. 


Before  I  go  to  bed  at  night 
A  host  of  stars  come  in  the  sky. 
They  seem  so  near  and  look  so  bright, 
I  might  climb  up  there  if  I  'd  try. 

Sometimes  the  clouds  get  in  the  way, 
And  then  the  wind  gets  mad  and  blows. 
The  moon  and  stars  then  march  away 
Like  soldiers  off  for  war  with  bows. 

The  moon,  their  leader,  takes  command 
O'er  every  big  and  little  star; 
But,  if  I  rightly  understand, 
They  never  ever  get  to  war. 

I'd  like  to  stay  awake  and  see 
How  long  the'd  march  there  overhead. 
Gee  Whiz!   I  guess    'twill  never  be! 
I  always  have  to  go  to  bed. 


36. 


MOTHER 

Oh!   guardian  of  childhood  and  teacher  of  truth, 

I  love  all  thy  virtues  and  ways, 
May  thy  lessons  instruct  me  and  brighten  my  youth, 

And  guide  every  act  of  my  days. 

Maternal  affection   is   better  than   gold; 

Thine  approval,  the  light  of  my  time; 
Thy  name  was  revered  by  the  sages  of  old, 

And  upheld  by  the  good,  the  sublime. 

The  greatest  of  mortals  that  trod  Freedom's  soil 
Owed  their  fame  to  maternity's  care, 

For   'twas  mother  who  taught  them  the  incessant  toil 
That   is  needed,   Life's  burdens  to   bear. 

Thy  love — it  is  greater  than  all  other  love, 

Thy  sympathy,  equaled  by  none; 
Thy  care  is  co-equal  with  that  from  above; 

Thy  kindness  is  virtue  alone. 

Oh!   first  to  forgive  and  forget  my  misdeeds, 

My  fancy  was  nurtured  by  thee, 
Thy  kindness  and  tenderness  planted  the  seeds 

That  have  grown  to  high  hope  within  me. 

I  long  for  thy  presence  when  absence  brings  woe 

To  comfort  and  lighten  my  heart. 
The  day  when  thy  name  is  held  sacred,  I  know 

Is  a  time  that  shall  never  depart. 
37. 


A  SNOWFALL  IN  THE  WOODS. 


A  snowfall  in  the  forest  broad 

Is  very  fair  to  see. 
The  beauteous,  universal  white 

Finds  rest  on  every  tree, 
And  hanging  on  their  bending  boughs 

It  brings  a  song  to  me. 

IVe  heard  a  wondrous  whisper  say 
When  snowflakes  leave  the  sky, 

That  Mother  Nature,  queen  of  earth. 
Sends  them  to  beautify; 

And  to  that  wondrous  whisper  sweet. 
This  song  is  my  reply: 

When  clouds  bend  low  to  kiss  the  pines, 

A  tale  in  song  is  told; 
For  like  the  strains  of  gentle  tunes 

The   snowflakes  charm  the   cold. 
Their  music  fills  my  soul  with  mirth 

And  thrills  me  manifold. 


38. 


THE  NEW  YEAPw. 


As   if   on   wingS;   or   fairy   feet, 

There  comes  at  midnight  from  afar 

A  saintly  maid  whose  life  till  now 
Was  nurtured  on  a  distant  star. 

In  mid  of  winter  bleak  and  cold, 

When  trees  and  woods  are  still  and  bare, 
She  comes  in  robes  of  peace  and  joy 

To  fill  the  all-pervading  air. 

She  tells  the  dying  year  adieu, 

And  humbly  takes  her  vacant  place, 

Intent  on  passing  her  short  life 

With  hoping  heart  and  smiling  face. 

She  comes  upon  a  midnight  cold 

When  bells  of  mirth  peal  out  a  cheer, — 

A   farewell   to   her   sister   maid, 
A  welcome  to  the  newer  year. 


39 


WINTER. 


Old  Winter  is  here  with  his  breezes  that  cheer, 

His  snow,  and  his  meadows  of  white. 
I  welcome  the  season,  the  last  in  the  year. 

With  its  source  of  pure  joy  and  delight. 
The  squirrel  and  the  chipmunk  are  sleeping  till  spring 

In  contentment  all  through  the  long  day; 
The  birds  of  the  snow  with  the  song  that  they  sing 

Cheer  our  souls  into  moods  that  are  gay. 

The  Autumn  is  past,  and  Old  Winter  at  last 

Brings  a  token  from  some  distant  clime. 
The  joys  of  the  snow  make  the  moments  fly  fast, 

For  Winter  is  grand  in  his  prime. 
A  gleam  from  the  sun  and  a  smile  from  the  skies 

Deprive  the  cold  day  of  its  chill; 
A  glimpse  of  the  stars  and  a  beam  from  their  eyes 

Keep  the  hoary  frost  glistening  still. 

All  through  the  long  night  the  cold  moon  sheds  her  light 

On  the  evergreen  trees  and  the  snow. 
And  the  bare,  frozen  branches,  all  ghostly  and  white, 

Sift  the  beams  of  the  luminous  glow. 
In  Autumn 's  sad  hours  every  tree  casts  the  leaf 

To  rightfully  meet  winter  days.  XJ^ 

Now — the  king  of  pure  beauty  rules  earth  -^^  a  thief 

Steals  the  snow  and  cheers  earth  with  his  ways. 

40 


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